


Alike in Dignity

by penguinwritesbooks



Category: Andi Mack (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, M/M, Rivalry, Romeo and Juliet References, Summer, Trans Male Character, Trans Marty (Andi Mack), the gays win with this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:06:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25393582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penguinwritesbooks/pseuds/penguinwritesbooks
Summary: Cyrus couldn't be more excited to be a camp counselor this summer. That is, until he gets assigned to a cabin with a long-standing rivalry against another. Not to mention the fact that the rival cabin's counselor isn't exactly unintimidating.
Relationships: Buffy Driscoll & Cyrus Goodman & Andi Mack, Buffy Driscoll/Andi Mack, Cyrus Goodman/T. J. Kippen
Comments: 9
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

The sun shone brightly through the trees, casting dancing shadows onto the grass below. The chatter of children milling about rose above the din of adults yelling out reminders and warnings. Kisses were pressed to cheeks, hair was ruffled lovingly, kids were held in slightly too tight hugs. 

Cyrus grinned, hugging Andi and Buffy goodbye with a glance around their cabin. “Good luck, guys! I’ll miss you!”

“We’re gonna see you in like four hours for dinner, Cy.”

“I know but I’m WORRIED! I can’t believe I got cabin 9, one of the  _ only two boys’ cabins _ with a long-standing rivalry. What if the cabin 11 counselors murder me? What if my co-counselor is a traitor and I’m all alone in the world?!”

“That’s not happening, Cyrus,” Andi assures him. “This is a three-month camp, no one's gonna just ditch you.”

“And if you get murdered, we’ll play Celine Dion at your funeral,” Buffy promises.

“Buffy, darling, light of my life, I love you, but please stop.” 

“We get it, you two are cute,” Cyrus said, crossing his arms. Andi simply smiled, leaning onto her tiptoes to kiss Buffy on the cheek. “I’m leaving. Love you guys, bye!

As Cyrus turned to go back to his own cabin, hoping to meet his co-counselor, he walked directly into another girl. “Oh my gosh, I’m sorry!”

“No, don’t worry about it, it’s all good,” the girl said. She seemed to be one of the older kids, standing at almost a full head over him. The only way he could tell she wasn’t a counselor was her lack of bright tie-dyed ‘COUNSELOR’ shirt. “Could you point me in the direction of cabin 12, though?”

“Oh, yeah! My two best friends are gonna be your counselors!” He pointed over his shoulder to where Andi was greeting another camper. “They’re probably the best counselors here,” he said, voice falling into a conspiratorial hush.

“Ooh, intrigue,” the girl said, sticking out her hand. “I’m Iris.” 

“Cyrus.” He looked her up and down without thinking about it, smiling at the lesbian flag painted onto the side of her shoes. 

“I’m not actually a camper,” Iris said. “I’m 17, so I decided to apply for counselor-in-training.”

“Oh!  _ You’re _ their CIT! That makes more sense than ridiculously tall 16-year-old. I think they have your CIT shirt. They’re dark blue, which is a significant upgrade from last year. We all had to wear, like,  _ neon _ orange for the first day.” 

“That’s… unfortunate. I’ve gotta go, but I’ll see you around?” Cyrus nodded, waving goodbye. He paused to watch Iris greet the girls, giving them a thumbs up over her shoulder, before turning to get back to his cabin. 

He stepped inside to find a jarring lack of co-counselor, three of his campers already setting up their bunks with their parents. “Hey, guys! I’m one of your counselors, Cyrus.” 

“Hi, Cyrus,” one of them said, looking up at him through thick-rimmed glasses and a mop of dark, curly hair. He was short but lanky, not quite what Cyrus was imagining when he was told he’d be counselor for the 14-15 year-olds. Cabin 11 housed the 15-16 year-olds, and somehow always had the tallest and scariest campers.

“Hey, …?” 

“Ari,” he filled in.

“Hey, Ari!” Cyrus smiled brightly and shook all of the parents’ hands, fielding all of their questions to the best of his ability.

No, I haven’t seen the other counselor yet, either. He’s probably helping to set up the dining hall for lunch.

Yes, we have a list of who needs what medications in the mornings, afternoons, and evenings. They’ll take it with their meals. 

Yes, there are trained medical professionals in the infirmary.

There’s a schedule of listed activities, but the kids are welcome to do pretty much whatever they want, as long as it’s safe and there are adults around.

Yes, we’re here to talk about whatever the kids want.

Yes, there are individual shower stalls.

Yes, we offer religious ceremonies if kids wish to attend them, but they don’t have to.

No, your children are not going to contract malaria.

Yes, kids are allowed to wake up early and walk around - we always have adults up at dawn.

Yes, if someone dies, you are welcome to come collect your child to bring them to the funeral.

Kids streamed in and out, setting up their bunks and leaving again to look around. Parents hugged and kissed them goodbye, reminding them to shower and use sunscreen. Only a few sets of parents remained when the other counselor barrelled through the door.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, breathless. “There was an… Administrative error.”

“It’s all good,” Cyrus said, shaking his hand. “Cyrus Goodman.”

“Marty Parlatore.”

“Italian,” Cyrus noted with a smile. “You have the accent, too.”

“Deeply Italian. Marty is actually short for Martino - my parents insisted,” Marty amended. “And yeah, I was born there, it’s my first language.”

“Mine is… English. But I know German! I took it in school. Anyway, um, we have all ten campers settled in now. Most parents are gone.”

“Alright, guys!” Marty exclaimed. “What are all your names? I’d hate to have to call you numbers 1-10.” A few campers chuckled, but most just smiled slightly and gave him their names. “I think it’s about time we got to lunch, yeah?”

“Parents, last calls for hugs and kisses and embarrassing reminders!” Cyrus called. The kids groaned as their parents suffocated them in hugs and the scent of perfume. “Alright, now let’s get these adults off the premises.”

Marty shook their hands as they left, answering a few stray questions. As soon as the door sprang shut behind them, he and Cyrus turned to face the campers. 

“Let’s eat! When we get there, set your stuff down at table 9 and grab a plate, then go ahead and dig in. Um… Gavin and Adrian, you’ll go through the big archway to your left when you walk in to take afternoon meds. Got it?” Everyone nodded, murmuring affirmation. 

They quickly filed out of their cabin, joining the mass of people headed to the dining hall. It was pretty much just a huge cabin, with lofted ceilings and a kitchen on one end, mirrored by an atrium where the kids took their medication during meals or watched movies at night. Cyrus watched everyone get inside and grab their plates, before pulling Marty back by the elbow.

“What’s up?” he asked, smiling at Cyrus.

“I just wanted to talk to you, I didn’t mean to kinda… yank you back.”

“Don’t worry about it man,” Marty said coolly. “It’s all good.”

“What was the administrative error you had earlier?” Marty hesitated for a moment, looking him up and down. “I- you don’t have to answer, I was just wondering bec-”

“Nah, man, it’s fine. They’d put me in a girls’ cabin.”

“Really? Why?” Cyrus asked, picking up a plate and handing one to Marty. 

“I’m trans, and they didn’t know.”

“Oh.” Cyrus nodded in understanding. “I’m sorry that happened.”

“It was no big deal, just some paperwork.”

“So they didn’t give you any trouble?”

“Nah. I was already meant to be with cabin 9, but they accidentally put me in 10, too. I think they just put two CITs and one counselor there to fix it.”

“Pretty quick fix, huh?” As Cyrus spoke, he walked into another counselor coming from the other direction. “Oh, I’m sorry! I’m such a klutz-”

“Watch it, 9,” the boy snapped, glaring at him. The bold ‘CABIN 11’ under the word ‘COUNSELOR’ suddenly screamed at Cyrus.

“Hey, don’t talk to him-” Marty cut himself off when he actually turned to make eye contact with the counselor. “TJ.”

“Marty?” TJ was shell shocked as his eyes flickered between the two. 

“We’re going now,” Marty said, dragging Cyrus away by the elbow.

“You have one hell of a grip,” Cyrus remarked. “Who was that?”

“TJ Kippen.”

“Shocker,” he deadpanned. “I meant, how do you know him?”

“He’s my ex.”

“I’m sorry, the counselor of our rival cabin is your EX?”

“Ex best friend,” Marty added quickly.

“How do we deal with that?” Cyrus asked.

“I don’t know! Pray the other one isn’t  _ your  _ old friend?”

“Not the time, Marty. Let’s just… Go back to the table and ignore the 11s for now.” Cyrus’s voice lacked any semblance of confidence, but he said it anyway.

“Good enough for me.” They wove back through the tables, pointedly looking away from TJ’s table, before collapsing at their table to make small talk with the boys.

“How old are you?”

“We’re both 19,” Marty said.

“Are you in college?”

“I am,” Cyrus said.

“Me too.”

“Do you have girlfriends?”

“No,” they answered in unison.

“Do you have boyfriends?” someone asked. The other kids all looked at him, and Cyrus found himself holding his breath. They all just looked back at him and Marty, anxiously awaiting their answers.

“That either,” Marty said casually, Cyrus nodding in agreement. 

Everyone shrugged in resignation, going back to their lunches and engaging in animated conversations about a thousand things at once. Cyrus held a conversation with Marty, only really half paying attention. He kept glancing over kids’ heads at TJ. 

_ Keep it together, _ he warned himself silently. 

“You?” Marty asked.

“Sorry?”

“...How much of that did you get?”

“Relatively none, sorry.”

“It’s okay, first days always have my head on a little crooked,” Marty said, following his gaze to the back of TJ’s head. “Worried about the 11s?”

“Uh, yeah,” Cyrus lied easily. Words poured off his tongue, water from a faucet as he padded his white lie with a fear of confrontation and reputation for running from his problems. Marty seemed to take the bait, nodding.

“Listen, TJ isn’t a bad person, alright? I mean, don’t associate yourself with him or anything. He’s just not a scary person, you know? He’s not one to actually hurt people.”

“Then why aren’t you two still close?”

“Things between us ended badly,” Marty said dismissively.

“You miss being friends with him?”

“Uh… Yes and no,” he said. “I miss knowing him, I guess.”

“You still could,” Cyrus pointed out. He held Marty’s gaze with such steadfast assuredness that Marty almost truly believed him.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Cyrus?” Ari asked, saving Marty from continuing this conversation. 

“What’s up?”

“Can I go sit with cabin 11? My friend Milo and I accidentally got separated.”

“Uh, yeah,” Cyrus said, looking sideways at Marty for confirmation. “Just make sure you ask the counselors over there first. If they say no, your friend is welcome to come sit with us.” Ari grinned widely, nearly sliding across the dining hall to the table.

Cyrus watched out of the corner of his eye as TJ smiled at Ari, nodding without hesitation and gesturing for him to sit down.

“Wow,” Marty noted, voice dropping. “Didn’t know it did that.” Cyrus chuckled half-heartedly, looking down at his fork. 

He let his eyes flick back to TJ, talking animatedly with Ari and Milo. Ari dropped his head onto Milo’s shoulder, rubbing his eyes. Cyrus watched Milo tease him, saying something or other - all he could make out were the phrases ‘tired?’ and ‘should get some sleep’. Ari rolled his eyes, yawning nonetheless.

“What are we looking at?” Marty hissed, following Cyrus’s gaze. “Let me guess, TJ’s co-counselor.” Cyrus glanced over at the boy on TJ’s other side. He seemed like the kind of boy who went out for football in high school but didn’t make the cut. Cyrus guessed he played frisbee golf or something equally as ridiculous.

“No,” Cyrus chuckled. He took a bite of his food, glancing at his watch for the time. “Okay, we have about twenty minutes until we go for icebreakers?” Marty asked. “You cover location, I’ll cover s’mores.”

“I think I know a place.”


	2. Chapter 2

Cyrus pushed through the last clump of tree branches hanging low in front of his eyes. He smiled at Marty as they stepped out of the woods and onto the shore of the lake that stood on one side of the camp. A bundle of sticks and logs had been nestled in a cone shape on the sand.

“If we were just gonna sit on the shore, why’d we have to cut through the woods?” Adrian asked from behind them.

“All of the younger kids’ cabins sit on that part of the shore; we wouldn’t be able to hear ourselves think,” Marty said, Cyrus’s reasoning clicking into place in his head. The campers seemed relatively happy with that explanation, nodding to one another. 

“Alright guys,” Cyrus said. “Sit down around the fire.”

“There’s no fire yet,” Nick remarked.

“Yeah yeah, just sit down.” Marty held up the bag of marshmallows in one hand to persuade them. He and Cyrus quickly set a small bundle of old newspaper aflame, tucking it into the base of the wood. It slowly started to come to life, shadows of small flames dancing along the beach as embers rose into the sky before burning out and fluttering to the ground. Cyrus found an abundance of long, thin sticks to pierce through their marshmallows and passed one out to everybody.

“Okay, so we know how much icebreaker exercises suck,” Cyrus said, settling down next to Marty. Everyone groaned, nodding in agreement. “So we’ve decided we’re just gonna say our names or nicknames you want to go by for now.”

“Alright, I’m Marty. If any of you call me Martino, I will not hesitate to revoke your s’more privileges,” he threatened playfully.

“I’m Cyrus, but you can call me Cy if you want.” Names were murmured and giggled, and nicknames were chosen at an astounding pace. A child Cyrus was 90% sure was named Jack was designated as a Chad, while his brother Mark was renamed Brad.

S’mores were obliterated by the second, and they sat there talking for hours until the last cinders of the fire fell prey to the sunset and dinner had nearly begun. All twelve phones were pulled out of pockets, flashlights lighting the way through the forest as the tree branches overhead twisted together to block out all remaining light from the sun.

They were the last cabin to return for dinner, the others already digging in by the time they got there. “Nicky, you have evening meds to take,” Cyrus said, pointing him in the right direction before moving off to get food. 

He waved to Andi and Buffy while he filled his plate. As he filled a cup with water, he felt himself being watched. Assuming it was his friends, he looked to their table, but they were deeply engrossed in an animated conversation. He furrowed his brows, glancing around. He found himself locking eyes with TJ Kippen, whose eyes rolled up and down Cyrus’s body. A chill ran down his spine and he turned away, starting to their table without utensils or the glass of water he’d just filled. 

He sat down and reached for a fork he knew wouldn’t be there, still feeling TJ’s eyes on him. Marty sat next to him, watching as Cyrus ate salad with his hands. 

“I- do you want some silverware, or...?”

“I’m okay,” Cyrus mumbled, voice meek and just audible amongst the din of the dining hall. He began to dip pieces of lettuce into his dressing before eating them, slowly working his way through the salad.

Milo and Ari sat with cabin 9 this time, chatting about whatever book Milo had just finished. Ari listened intently, despite being near falling asleep on the heel of his palm.

“Think he’s gonna make it through game night tonight?” Cyrus asked. 

“Eh, probably,” Marty said with a flippant shrug. “I have faith.”

* * *

After dinner, everyone went back to their cabins and changed into warmer clothes. Cyrus and Marty made sure everyone was with them before making their way out of cabin 9 and into the forest. Eventually, they found themselves in a small clearing. The campers joined the rest of the crowd, forming a half-circle around the counselors.

“Alright, we’re gonna be playing in partners,” a head counselor announced. “The object of the game is to get all the way through the woods here and get the rubber chicken at the end. However, you have to be together to get it. Most of the counselors and CITs are going to be in the trees, and when they shine a flashlight on you, you have to freeze until their flashlight isn’t on you anymore. They can’t keep their flashlight on one person for more than 15 seconds. When you get the chicken, ring the bell next to it as loud as you can. No violence, no loud noises unless you win. Got it?” Everyone nodded and mumbled in agreement.

“Okay, get into pairs and wait five minutes for us to get situated in the forest before anyone starts, yeah?” With that, about thirty out of nearly forty counselors and CITs took off into the woods to climb into trees, armed with flashlights. 

Hayley, a head counselor, kept track of the five minutes as people quickly sorted themselves into groups of two. Marty, Andi, and Buffy had all been chosen to hide in the woods, so Cyrus found himself one of the last people to have a partner. 

He heard Hayley tell someone they could pair with him, and turned around, only to find himself face to face with TJ Kippen.


	3. Chapter 3

“Jonah’s in the woods, so...” TJ muttered, as if he needed to justify partnering with Cyrus, who just nodded quietly. They stood in tense silence as Hayley called out the one minute mark.

“I- um, I know a shortcut,” Cyrus said after a while, before he could stop himself. “To the rubber chicken… place.”

“You know counselors aren’t supposed to win, right?”

“Yeah, I just figured we could wait it out, but you’re welcome to go army crawl through the mud on your own.” As soon as he stopped speaking, Cyrus’s eyes widened, clearly shocked to have spoken like that to TJ.

“3… 2… 1… Go!” Hayley yelled, jumping out of the way as people stampeded past. Cyrus sprinted as fast as his legs would carry him to the little path he used to hide on when he was a kid at camp. He leaned against the tree to his right, patiently waiting for the game to end. 

“We’re supposed to stick together.” Cyrus jumped at the voice, finding TJ staring at him in the low light of the moon. 

“You run  _ really  _ quiet,” he marveled, subtly stepping away from him. TJ matched the step, but his longer legs brought them closer than they began. 

“You afraid of me or something?” Cyrus silently shook his head, shuffling backward nonetheless. TJ got closer, towering slightly over him. “Then why are you keeping your distance like that?”

“Personal space.”

“No such thing.”

“No, I distinctly recall being taught about the personal space bubble when I was young.”

“Lies. Slander.”

“Basic etiquette.”

“What, were you a cotillion escort in your youth?”

“No, but my friends and I once stole the cotillion gowns all the debutantes’ parents threw out after the ball,” Cyrus said.

“Why?”

“That’s like… miles of free white chiffon, tulle, and silk.”

“No, why’d they throw them out?”

“They’re rich. What are they gonna do, use them again?”

“What’d you do with them?”

“Cut them up for the fabric - except one. Andi really liked it, so she put it on a mannequin in Andi Shack. I think it’s still dressed up like that now.

“What’d you do with the fabric? And what’s Andi Shack? And who’s Andi?”

“We dyed it and made new clothes and gave them to random people. Andi’s one of the cabin 12 counselors. Andi Shack was her childhood miniature art studio.”

“She the tall scary one or the little one with the pride pin on her overalls?”

“Overalls. The tall one’s our other best friend Buffy.” He tried to gauge TJ’s reaction based solely on the small amount of his face he could see in the moonlight. He didn’t seem particularly disgusted. In fact, it just looked like he was processing all the information. He nodded after a moment, still a little too close for Cyrus to be entirely comfortable.

“They seem close - they together or something?”

“Uh, yeah. Have been since sophomore year - we just graduated this May.”

“Me too. So you and Marty are, uh, co-counselors?”

“Yeah, we are.”

“He didn’t get placed with the girls, then,” TJ said, exhaling a sigh of relief.

“He did, actually, but it all got sorted out. You two used to be friends?”

“Is that what he told you?”

“...Yeah?” TJ sighed, shaking his head.

“We were together, actually. He was just trying not to out me. He accidentally told my teammates back in high school that I was gay. They freaked out and disowned me, we broke up, it was a whole thing.”

“Oh.” Scary TJ Kippen was gay. Huh.

“I- I wanted to apologize for what happened at lunch. I was just… I don’t know.” 

“Okay.”

“Is that code for ‘I forgive you’?”

“No? You never apologized.”

“I just did.”

“Saying you want to apologize is not the same thing as apologizing,” Cyrus argued.

“Okay, then I apologize.”

“Are you actually sorry? Or do you just think that maybe your life will be a whole hell of a lot easier if I don’t hate you?” Cyrus crossed his arms in defense, narrowing his eyes.

“Am I supposed to be afraid of you, or something?”

“No, but maybe you’re just a little bit afraid of the guy with unfettered access to your ex-boyfriend?”

“Or maybe I was just trying to apologize?”

“What, and you don’t know how?”

“Not really, no!” And, for just a second, in the light of the moon as it shone through the trees, it was as if Cyrus was able to see through him. How nice, he thought, might it be to love someone like TJ Kippen. 

What ‘someone like TJ’ entailed, he wasn’t sure. Maybe there was no being ‘like TJ,’ there was only being or not being TJ. Though, realistically, he didn’t want to love TJ Kippen. 

“...I’m sorry, Cyrus.”

That would be absurd.

“I was having a shitty day, I was worried about seeing Marty again.”

Wouldn’t it?

“I shouldn’t have taken it out on you like that.”

Yes, he decided. It would. 

“I have a habit of being kind of a douchebag when I get nervous.”

Cyrus ran.


	4. Chapter 4

He tripped over roots protruding from the ground, fighting to see in the inky black of the night as he ran. 

“Whoa, Cyrus, what the hell?” With that, TJ was running after him. Long arms reached out, trying in vain to grasp the fabric of Cyrus’s brightly colored ‘counselor’ shirt. 

Their breaths came in short bursts, their shoes pounded into the dirt. Cyrus had shorter legs than TJ, and he was nowhere near as athletically inclined, so he relied on sheer terror and adrenaline to carry him as fast as possible. He tried not to think about who was chasing him, instead opting to focus on the pattern of his feet as the hit the ground beneath him.

Right.

Left, right, left.

Right.

Left.

Right, left.

One of TJ’s hands barely grazed his elbow. His fingertips were warm, sending a shock down his spine.

Left.

Right.

Left.

“Cyrus!” TJ didn’t sound angry. He sounded desperate. The thought ha Cyrus’s feet stuttering in time with his heart.

Left, right, left, right, left, right.

Left.

He was getting tired. Adrenaline could only take him so far before his lungs gave out.

Right.

TJ’s eyes. 

Left.

His hair, his voice, his smile.

Right.

The way his voice cracked when he was nervous. The way his hands would feel entwined with Cyrus’s. The way his eyebrows seemed perpetually raised.

Left, right.

Left, right, left, right, right-

Fuck.

He foundered, and immediately felt two arms circling his waist. He was scooped up before he could fall, and held only tighter when he shrieked. They tumbled backward, leaving Cyrus in his lap. TJ held onto him like he was afraid of letting go, like the very moon was in his arms. They sat quietly like that for several moments, until their breathing started to match.

“Why the fuck are you so goddamn fast?” TJ huffed. Cyrus twisted around to look at him with a shrug. 

“I’m not, really. I was just thinking about leaving and then my legs were taking me away.”

“Are you allergic to apologies?” 

“No, just cute guys,” Cyrus mumbled.

“Sorry, what?” TJ asked, eyes sparkling with mirth. Their noses were nearly brushing, his breath warm on Cyrus’s face. 

Cyrus really didn’t know what to do. There were a few options he could choose from, but none of them felt foolproof. 

He thought of Milo and Ari, of all things, how clearly attached they were. The way they looked at each other with warmth in their eyes. He would have killed for that, when he was young. Maybe he still would. 

Fuck, he definitely still would.

He summoned all the courage in his being, tenderly reaching out to hold TJ’s face.

They were kissing before he could process all that had happened. TJ’s hands were in his hair and around his waist. He was everywhere, somehow. Cold air sent goosebumps down his arms, and he shivered against TJ, who held him infinitely closer. 

Everything was warm and soft and gentle.

And then a camper rang the bell.


End file.
